


hold on for one more day

by disgruntledkittenface



Series: tomlinshaw [1]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Outing, Back to you, Blow Jobs, But a lot of fluff, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Established Relationship, M/M, Radio 1 Breakfast Show, Solo Louis, Some angst, banter as love language, pig and stinky, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface
Summary: “Right? Anyway, s’not like he needs to put the reminder, if anyone’s going to fuck up live on air–”“It’d be you,” they say at the same time.Louis appears on The Breakfast Show to promoteBack to You.





	hold on for one more day

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this, anon! When I saw the prompt “Nick accidentally reveals his relationship with Louis,” my mind went right to the 2017 tomlinshaw interview. I had so much fun writing this and playing with their dynamic, so thank you and thanks to [ Writcraft ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft) for organizing!
> 
> Note: I condensed the interview and edited out a lot of filler words for readability but I highly recommend listening to the [ audio ](https://soundcloud.com/thetomlinsondaily3/bbcr1) in full, as it is a true delight, and here’s the [ transcript ](http://whiteknightonasteed.tumblr.com/post/163328402214/louis-and-grimmy-bbc-radio-i-bty-release-day) I worked off of. 
> 
> To my fic clique for their beta work, brainstorming, proofreading, cheerleading and handholding: HEARTS AND THANK YOUS and sorry again about the penises. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title is from _Hold On_ by Wilson Phillips (featured in Nick’s favorite movie).
> 
> And I just want to mention, this fic includes brief mentions of Chester Bennington’s suicide because it was covered on the show that day and allusions to Louis and Nick having lost someone recently. I think it’s minor, but forewarned is forearmed for triggers.

Nick stares out the car window as one neighborhood fades into the next and he gets closer to home. He’s still bopping his head a bit to one of the tunes from the concert despite this new driver’s insistence on playing what Nick can only assume is a recording of cats being strangled. Dead nice time tonight, but Nick’s been up for ages and he’s knackered and ready to get home to his dogs and his boy–

_ Fucking shit. _

It’s as they pass a closed café that he remembers he was supposed to stop and pick up coffee that afternoon. 

_ Buggering fucking shit. _

No one, least of all him, wants to deal with a caffeine-deprived Louis early in the morning. Christ, he loves Louis with all his (previously cold black) heart and even  _ he _ barely wants to deal with a  _ caffeinated _ Louis that early. And Nick’s finally,  _ finally _ arranged to have him on for this second single after not being able to for the first and now he’s gone and cocked it up. 

_ Shit shit shit. _

Nick unlocks his phone, pausing for a second to admire the selfie Louis had set as his wallpaper (well fit his boyfriend is) before pulling up his favorites and pressing dial.

“Babe,” Louis answers, his voice scratchy. “s’late, you almost home?”

Nick would ignore the little clench of his heart at ‘home’ but his reflection in the car window grinning stupidly back at him makes it a bit difficult. 

“Almost, yeah,” he manages after a moment. “Listen, I forgot to check–”

“Nah, s’alright,” Louis interrupts with a yawn, “Oli ran out for coffee and stocked up the cabinet with Yorkshire while he was at it and we got milk in. I’ll be fine tomorrow, love.”

_ Thank fucking christ.  _

“Thank fucking christ,” Nick exhales.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Louis says sarcastically. “I’m not me best in the mornings–” 

“No, no,” Nick protests, smirking. “You’re lovely in the mornings, I love you best in the mornings, it’s my favorite time with you–”

“Oi, piss off,” Louis laughs. “You’re such a wanker, why do I keep you around?”

“You love it really,” Nick counters, smiling as his voice becomes softer, “and you love me.”

“That I do,” Louis murmurs. He clears his throat before continuing, “How was the concert? Bet it was sick.”

“Siiiiiiick, mate,” Nick agrees. “How was your night, love? Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis replies. “Had to watch this Love Island trash all on me own, but yeah, was good.”

“Missed you,” Nick whispers, just for Louis.

“Yeah, babe,” Louis whispers back, as though someone other than the dogs might overhear. “Me too.”

They fall into a companionable silence for a few moments before Nick looks up and realizes he’s getting quite close. He opens his mouth to tell Louis but Louis interrupts him with a question. 

“Did you read this email then? From management, they copied you, talking points for tomorrow?”

Nick fumbles with his phone, and sees that there is indeed something from Louis’ manager included with the rest of the emails he’d ignored that night.

“No, love,” he replies. “Figured I’d read it in the morning. Anything interesting?”

“Nah, just goes over everything we already decided on again. Russ got cute at the end though.”

“Really?” Nick asks, trying to picture Louis’ laddy manager as cute and failing. “What’d he say?”

“The last line is something like, ‘oh and remember – we don’t want people to know you’re together, so don't let on.’” 

Nick guffaws, ignoring the side eye from the driver. “Adorable, really.”

The car slows to a stop in front of Nick’s house and he nods politely toward the front seat, getting out as Louis continues.

“Right? Anyway, s’not like he needs to put the reminder, if anyone’s going to fuck up live on air–”

“It’d be you,” they say at the same time as Nick walks up the path.

“What d’you mean,” Nick squawks into the phone as he walks through the front door, “it would be me?”

He throws his keys on the side table in the foyer as Pig descends on him first, followed by Stinky, and then Louis with his phone to his ear, full of faux outrage yet impossibly soft in joggers and Nick’s jumper. Nick’s new, black  _ Gucci _ jumper that Louis had claimed as his own for lazing around the house despite Nick’s best efforts to declare it off limits. 

Louis lowers his phone and presses end, looking up with a flash in his eyes as he says, “Well it wouldn’t be me, mate.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be me,” Nick scoffs. “In case you haven’t heard, I am a professional. Mate.”

Louis leans in for a quick kiss as the dogs try to clamber up both of their legs.

“I do have some experience with this kind of thing, Nicholas,” he says, patting the dogs’ heads before turning. 

“Do you even know,” Louis calls over his shoulder as he starts to head back down the hallway, “how much media training – and media training specific to you – that I’ve had over the years?”

Nick shucks off his jacket as he follows his little family marching toward the bedroom.

“Love, I’m older–”

“Much older, hm, yes, I know.”

“–and wiser, I have a lot more experience than you. You’d be the one to cock it up.”

Nick can tell Louis expects him to follow to the bed once he reaches the bedroom, so he slings his jacket over a chair and heads to the en suite. He can hear Louis goading the dogs to jump up onto their bed and he rolls his eyes as he grabs his toothbrush and nicks some of Louis’ toothpaste to put on it. 

Louis saunters in and nicks the toothpaste right back, putting some on his own toothbrush. They stand side by side, brushing their teeth at each other; neither of them breaking eye contact in the mirror. Louis finishes first, spitting and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before raising his eyebrows at Nick and sauntering back out. Nick finishes a minute later, thinking about how their friends are always begging them to let these little arguments go.

“Besides,” he calls out to the bedroom. “Why would I want to out us during  _ this _ promo and have people think the song is about you and me?”

Louis appears in the doorway with a dramatic gasp and Nick is definitely not endeared by his boy; he’s definitely not grinning stupidly into another reflection as he moves to take out his contacts. 

“How very dare you?” Louis demands. “You said you liked the song!”

“I do, love,” Nick insists. “I do. But it’s a bit harsh, innit? You think I can’t wait to tell people about my long-term partner who fucks me up and kills me and everything? No, they’ll think it’s me, I’m the one who fucks you up–”

“Does some part of you still think it’s about you?” Louis sighs, leaning against the doorjamb as Nick splashes water on his face. “Babe, I told you, we were just talking about how before you and I got together, we were both stubborn and neither of us could flirt for shit–”

“Yeah,” Nick cuts in as he grabs his ‘energizing’ (fine, anti-aging) face wash, “in what world, no, in what universe does ‘Moyles is greater than sign Grimmy’ count as flirting–” 

“–but then Nick and I took that, and ran with it, and it became this whole different concept–” 

“I’m pretty sure Niall called dibs on the word ‘concept,’ but continue.” 

“–of, like, an extreme version of this toxic sort of relationship that has nowt to do with you or us–”

“I love it when you talk Northern to me, baby–”

“Okay, I may be shit at flirting but you’re so much worse,” Louis says, his insult belied by his warm tone and the smile taking over his face. God, Nick loves it when Louis’ eyes crinkle like that. His own eye crinkles are much less cute and refuse to bow to the will of any serum or eye cream he tries.

“I may be shit at flirting, but you know what I’m excellent at?” Nick asks after he rinses his face and reaches for the towel. “Doing the radio. And I’m not about to slip up and say, ‘look at my boyfriend, here in the studio in yet another fetching trackie, with his new single–’”

“I still can’t believe you banned trackies for tomorrow,” Louis says indignantly, starting to count off his usual pro-trackies arguments on his fingers. “They’re cozy, you know they’re in style right now–”

“I don’t care, you’re not wearing a tracksuit on the radio to release your new song and accidentally reveal we have been in a committed relationship for over three years,” Nick declares as he faces the mirror and starts to smooth on his face cream. 

“You’re awfully... cocky, aren’t you?” Louis says cheekily. 

“Isn’t that one of the things you love about me?” Nick asks, turning to leer suggestively for a moment. “But you honestly think it would be me? It’s my show, I talk to people for a living, I've got loads of experience following talking points and only giving away the bits that are okay to give away.”

“I dunno, babe, you sound like you’re looking to make a wager.”

“Maybe I am,” Nick says airily. “How’s this then, if you let slip on the show, then tomorrow night you do that thing I like.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but nods. “And if you’re the one to let slip, then tomorrow night you do that thing you like.”

“What?” Nick asks, not flustered a bit. (Not a bit.) “You don’t even like that thing I like.”

“No, no,” Louis protests. “Just because I don’t come home with ‘surprises’ for you every month doesn’t mean I don’t like it too. Do we have a deal?”

_ Well, then.  _

For a split second, he wonders how long it will take before Louis loses the ability to surprise him.

_ Hopefully never.  _

He takes Louis’ proffered hand. “Deal.”

They keep shaking hands for a few minutes, smiling at each other until a yawn escapes from Nick’s mouth.

“Come on, love,” Louis says, rearranging their linked hands to lead Nick into the bedroom. “Early morning for us, t’bed.”

Nick squints, looking around their room for the first time since getting home; even without his vision corrected, he can tell it appears to have been hit by a tornado (of high-end clothing, that is). They split at the foot of the bed to their respective sides, undressing. 

“D’you get an outfit sorted for tomorrow then, love?” Nick asks. “Think you must have tried on everything we own.”

Louis flings the Gucci jumper at Nick’s head (honestly, is nothing sacred?), cackling when it lands on his face. 

“Well if someone wasn’t being a twat about it,” Louis replies, “I could have worn that new purple trackie, but instead I had to group chat Haz and Harry and they made me send photos.”

“What’d they decide on?” Nick asks as he gives up and tosses his clothes on the floor. He’ll have to fold everything in the house tomorrow anyway.

“That there,” Louis points at the settee at the foot of the bed. “The Burberry print.”

“My Burberry print?”

“What’s yours is ours, darling. And I have to look right posh, don’t I?” 

Nick sighs heavily for effect, glancing at Louis out of the corner of his eye. (It has no effect.) He grabs his glasses and slips them on before looking back at the clothes carefully arranged on the settee, in stark contrast to the rest of the room.

“What’s that under it?” he asks. “You’re wearing a jumper too?”

“I know how cold you like it in there,” Louis says. “I may have to look posh but I don’t have to freeze.”

“And that t-shirt there?” Nick asks. “You gonna layer those long sleeves too? Honestly, it’s not that cold in there, I just–”

“Nope,” Louis says. “That’s your outfit there next to mine. If you get to have a say in what I wear, than I get to have a say in what you wear. You don’t get to look smarter than me, and anyway your eyes look nice with that green.”

Nick’s not smiling (he’s  _ not _ ) as he throws on his sleeping tee and climbs into bed where Louis is snuggled up with their already sleeping dogs. 

“You know they have their own beds, right?”

“They like it better with us,” Louis coos as he runs a hand over each dog.

Nicks rolls his eyes, reaching for the remote.

“Fancy a Simpsons episode before bed?” he asks.

“Put on Forensic Files, you’re just going to be on your phone anyway.” 

It’s true, so Nick puts on Louis’ show for him and settles back, stretching his arm out so Louis can slide under it. He grabs his phone and opens his texts, enjoying the quiet for a few minutes. Unusual quiet, actually, Louis’ a fairly vocal telly watcher. He looks down to check if Louis’ already falling asleep and finds his boy looking back up at him.

“What is it, love? Show’s not good?” Nick asks. “Not forensic enough? Too few files for you?”

“I love the way you look in your glasses,” Louis says simply, moving a hand up to thumb over Nick’s triangle tattoo.

Never one for gracefully accepting a compliment, Nick blushes.

“Now, now, love,” he says. “Early morning for both of us tomorrow, no time for Professor Grimshaw tonight.”

Louis snorts and looks back to his show, but shifts to lie closer to Nick. It doesn’t take long for his eyelids to start drooping and Nick decides it’s time to call it a night for both of them. He leans over to check Louis’ alarm is set, ringer on, phone plugged in; then does the same for his own hour-earlier alarm. He shuts off the telly and light and wiggles down to lie properly, the amount of bodies in the bed not leaving much room for him. He’d grumble a bit, but Louis’ already out and the dogs don’t care. 

Just as he arranges his long legs around Pig, Louis snuffles a bit, and Nick’s heart does that clench thingy again. He leans over and presses a kiss to Louis’ hair.

“Night, love.”

*

Nick shoots straight up when his alarm goes off the next morning like he’d been waiting for it. He turns to the side and tries to silence it quickly but the lump under the duvet next to him still rasps, “shurrup shurrup SHURRUP, make it  _ stop _ , Nick” until he finally gets it. 

“Sorry, love,” Nick says quietly, petting what he can reach of Louis’ hair poking out from the bedding. He thinks he hears a “nrrgh,” but it’s not worth his life to investigate further.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits for a few moments, rubbing his eyes. He has to force himself to stand and start making his way to grab the clothes Louis had set out and head to the en suite, using the flashlight on his phone to make sure he doesn’t trip over the debris of Louis’ trying-on-clothes movie montage the night before. 

Closing the door softly, Nick turns on the light and lets his eyes adjust before turning on the shower. He’d rather slag off and go in with dirty hair but it’s a big day and all, his boyfriend coming in. He goes through the motions quickly, and soon he’s all washed and dressed and quiffed and ready. 

Nick slinks out of the bathroom and looks over to the bed. He wants to say goodbye, dying to ruffle Louis’ hair or tickle his sides a bit before leaving, but Louis actually seriously hates early starts and he doesn’t want him to start the day wrong-footed. They’re both bad at the sincere bits, but Nick knows full well how important this day is, so he grabs his jacket and makes for the door instead. Maybe he can manage a tickle in a broom closet at the Beeb or summat later. 

Smiling to himself at that, Nick finally checks his phone in the car, London traffic even this early assuring him a bit of time. He sees the news about Chester Bennington and his heart sinks. It’s a tragedy for just about every reason, but selfishly he wants to shield Louis from anything that might remind him of last year. They’re both just quietly waiting for a time when the sad memories have faded and the happy memories aren’t tinged with heartache. 

The car slows near the building entrance and Nick is brought out of his wistful reverie by his driver’s shout at the amount of people. They have a good brief chat about Louis (yes, he does seem like a fine young lad, good on him) and Nick makes his way inside. 

He stops at the café for a quick brekkie, coffee and scone, and takes it up to his floor. He’d almost grabbed something for Fiona too before he’d remembered she’s not in. He thinks in the lift on whether that’s a good thing or bad; on the one hand, she and Louis delight in teaming up to take the piss out of him, they're ridiculous, but on the other hand, she keeps him in line and there’s a silly wager on. Whatever, he’s a professional. And honestly, there’s no one on the radio better suited to interview Louis than him; he’s greater than sign the lot of them.

Speaking of interviewing Louis, Nick pulls up that talking point email and scans it as he sips coffee. It all looks in order, this is nothing Nick isn’t used to. He just isn’t used to it being Louis sat across from him. Nick’s got a couple of things up his sleeve that aren’t on the list as he didn’t bother to run them past Louis’ team. Louis will roll with the surprises a bit easier than Harold likes to, he thinks as he snickers once again at the Chelsea boot photo. He really hadn’t expected to get him with that one; honestly, for a world-famous rock star, Harry makes it too easy sometimes. 

Nick gets settled in with his notes and gets to work, announcing Louis as a guest and shouting out the roughly 85,000 people waiting outside for him to arrive. He’s well used to the fervor of One Direction fans, but he never quite gets over it. He loves his boyfriend more than anyone but he wouldn’t camp out just for a glimpse. Well, maybe that’s not strictly true, but no one else needs to know that.

It’s a little after 7:00 when Nick gets word from an assistant and a text from Louis himself that he’s arrived, but Nick can’t very well jump up and go meet him right away. He stays in the studio, does another link, is a professional, thank you very much, and sees Louis when he’s escorted in. 

He’s looking the slightest bit peaky, although Nick’s sure he’s the only one who can tell how tired Louis is (how on earth Nick ended up with someone who hates getting up early this much, he’ll never know). Still beautiful, though. Nick loves his hair like this, almost messy with fringe that lays flat from Louis’ tick of smoothing it down. Short, perfect stubble. The Burberry is buttoned right to the top as always, although the posh of it is undercut by the maroon jumper, which was no doubt Louis’ intention. Smart, but still a lad. They grin at each other for a moment before the “good morning”s all around and Louis gets situated with his headphones. 

“Y’alright? How was the wake up, then?” Nick asks cheerfully, trying to keep the softness out of his tone and only slightly wishing he could add a ‘love.’

“Was brutal, mate. Don’t know how you do it.” Louis shakes his head. For someone’s benefit (Nick’s not sure whose but it’s not theirs), Louis asks, “Honestly, what time d’you have to get t’bed to do this every day?” 

And so they make idle chitchat over the last track, and then suddenly, finally, it’s time. 

“That was  _ Praying _ on Radio 1, before that Calvin Harris and Katy Perry,” Nick announces. “It’s 7:40 Friday morning on Radio 1 and our guest is here.”

He winks at Louis as the interlude plays and then scoots in closer to the microphone as he trills, “Good morning, Louis Tomlinson.” 

“Morning, mate,” Louis singsongs back. It’s not cute. (It’s not.)

“How are ya?” Nick asks.

“Ah, yeah,” Louis starts, voice a bit scratchy. “I’m a bit tired, obviously.”

“We were just talking about our sleep routines,” Nick replies, “over a very emotional Kesha record then.”

“Mm, yeah, it was nice,” Louis deadpans, getting the first genuine laugh (of many, Nick’s sure) from him.

“It’s nice,” Nick laughs, “but yeah, you’re not into the morning, are you?”

“I mean, I’m trying, I’m trying,” Louis offers, “I’ll do me best, obviously, but, I’m just a little slow in the morning, yeah.”

“Well, I appreciate it, coming in early,” Nick banters. 

“Oh, well,” Louis answers, “thanks for having me, thanks for having me.”

Ignoring the ridiculous situation that is his life where he can’t follow his own boyfriend on Twitter himself, Nick says, “I noticed your tweet about how early it was, had a lot of o’s on ‘so.’” He grins. “It was like sooooooooooooooo early.”

“I mean, I needed to emphasize it, yeah,” Louis replies brightly. 

“I mean, really. What time was the alarm this morning?” Nick asks, like he wasn’t the one to set and double-check it. 

“It was at six this morning,” Louis sighs. “Honestly, it’s one of those where I’m like, I could not believe the alarm was going off already, but, I got up–”

“You got up and you’re here!” Nick exclaims. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis nods. 

God, between them both being active listeners and in love with the sound of their own voices and each other’s, they’re going to be talking over each other the whole time, their Northern accents getting stronger by the minute. 

“It’s a big day today,” Nick continues. “because we’re gonna play your song, which is really exciting, and the world are gonna hear it. How was last night? How is like, single release eve? How is it the night before?”

“I mean, actually, I think…” Louis starts, “I’ve actually been sat on this song now for, like, three months, maybe longer, so actually, I’m just… the closer it gets to today, and now we’re here. It feels good, ’cause, actually, the pressure’s been building – I’ve been getting some good feedback from the label, management, stuff like that, but, obviously, I wanna hear what the fans think of it, so… yeah…”

“I guess when you make something you just wanna, like, get it out there,” Nick replies.

While Louis continues, Nick thinks to himself about how close Louis had actually come to leaking the whole thing. Label’s so into the fans’ talent at do-it-yourself promo, he’d figured why not. Liam had coerced him into a pinky promise not to, always one for rules following that Payno, and then Louis had made off with Liam’s chain again for an hour as payback. He's such a terror. Christ, Nick loves him.

“So,” Nick starts. “Can you play it, like, in the car? If you love your song, I think that’s alright, ’cause some artists are like ‘oh, I can’t listen to it,’ but I think it’s alright to listen to your own tune.”

“It is my rule,” Louis replies, “once it’s out, then I think maybe you should leave it to the fans, d’you know what I mean, but I do listen in car up until then, yeah.”

“So you’ll never listen to this in the car ever again now,” Nick jokes.

“Ah, other than Radio 1, no,” Louis laughs. 

They chat a bit about who to play new songs for as Nick queues up the song, before he states in his best professional radio DJ voice, “This is exciting. This is brand-new music for you, on New Music Friday, Louis Tomlinson with Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals. This is  _ Back To You _ , on Radio 1.”

The song starts and Louis stays put where he is and Nick finds himself oddly touched. Most people, even his friends, roll back in their chair or stand to stretch and walk over to consult whatever entourage they’ve brought with.

He starts to groove in his seat a bit, trying to get a reaction out of Louis, who starts to bop a bit too, cracking a grin. When it gets to the first “you fuck me up,” they roll their eyes at the muted “fuck” and the next time Nick sings it off-pitch and they both giggle.  

Once they’re back on, Nick starts with the obvious, “That song is well catchy, that, isn’t it?” because despite being an insecure mess at times, he does know it’s not about them and it is a bop. 

“I hope so,” Louis replies. 

“I’ve only heard it, like, once or twice before, in the office,” Nick says, lying through his teeth, “and that is like an earworm. That will be in your head.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“I reckon, you’ll know the words to that,” Nick gestures quickly to Louis, “not you – but the people listening, you’ll know the words to that by, like, lunchtime, that’ll be in your brain.”

“Alright, fingers crossed,” Louis smiles, looking chuffed. 

Nick goes through the listener texts, delighting in repeating that one of them is in capitals over and over, seeing as Louis hates it when Nick texts him in all capitals, always getting all huffy about how “I can hear you already, you don’t need to shout it.” It’s an ongoing issue in their relationship. Moving on, he asks Louis about how it was in studio for this one, how he knows what to release (he probably asks about five questions altogether but radio’s better when it’s a bit rubbish anyway). 

“I like to think I’ve got quite good instincts for music,” Louis begins, “so I think, normally, especially with this song, um, it kind of stood out to me across everything that I’ve written so far for the album, really, because it’s quite minimal in the production, and it’s kind of something, even melodically, that feels different to what I would normally do, so that was exciting to me.”

“And it feels like the lyrics, as well,” Nick says seriously, “I don’t know if you’ve heard this, we got someone to voice up the lyrics, ’cause, you know, like when you tease a song and put the lyrics out there, all the conspiracy theorists around the world...” 

“Of course,” Louis nods, smiling.

“… are like, ‘I know what this is about, this is about–’” Nick just barely manages to stop himself before giving any examples, thank christ. “… like, some mad thing or something… but we voiced all the lyrics, and when you see the lyrics written down, it’s–”

“They’re harsh,” Louis chimes in, the little shit. 

“They’re harsh!” Nick agrees.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Louis murmurs,  _ the little shit _ .

“Deep, this,” Nick says, because he can be a little shit, too, when he wants. It’s why they work so well together. 

“Yeah, I mean, we just wanted to write, ah,” Louis starts to ramble,  “it’s kind of… I mean, we all know those people, that you’re kind of like… you probably shouldn’t be together, but you just keep finding your way back to each other, and it’s kind of just writing about, like, the most extreme of that relationship situation.”

“And they’re, like, bad for you, but then when you’re apart, you’re like,” Nick sighs exaggeratedly, “‘still quite fancy them.’” 

“Yeahhhh,” Louis drawls.

“Then ‘oh this is why we’re not together!’” Nick adds.

“Exactly,” Louis laughs a little, “yeah, yeah…”

“You have a break and then you do it again, and again, and this is life…” Nick says, wondering why he won’t just stop talking. He’s a professional. 

“Exactly.” 

“This is life, but, I mean, at least you got a song out of it, I just got mental torture.”

And they both laugh as Nick tries to stop thinking back to his dating life before Louis, and all the relationships that barely counted as such and the searching he’d had to do before he’d met the new boy band of the moment at some event and everything had turned upside down in his life. 

Trying to regroup, Nick continues, “Well, there’s loads of questions coming in, loads of people want to speak to you. There’s loads of people outside this morning.”

“Yeah, there is,” Louis says in that self-deprecating way of his. “It’s amazing. It’s so early, as well. I mean, honestly, fair play.”

“Would you have done that for anyone?” Nick asks. “Was there anyone that you loved that much that you’re like, ‘I will wake up at 2:00 a.m.’”

“I mean,” Louis sighs, thinking, “the only band, potentially, that I would have done it for when I was younger, like, fourteen, fifteen, is Green Day, I reckon.”

Nick’s a bit surprised, he had a Nickelback joke all set, but he lets it go, planning on giving him shit later. 

“How is it when it is that early,” Nick asks, “because I imagine if you see fans at, like, lunchtime, it’s, like, ‘great, I’m up, I’ve had my brekkie, we’re alright.’”

“Yeah, it’s one of those,” Louis starts, “I mean, I said I’d stop on my way out, obviously, and yeah, I just feel bad, y’know, walking in tired… I’m sure I look pretty rough, giving them a little wave, but I’ll make a fuss of them when I go out, yeah.”

“What do you do if you are, like, actually gonna be late–”

“I’m always late,” Louis interrupts, “yeah, lucky I’m not late today,” as if Nick wasn’t well aware. 

“–whenever you run into a fan, you’ve gotta, sort of, say… how do you say ‘really… I need a wee’ or something… ‘I’ve really gotta go.’”

“You don’t, really. I mean… I mean, sometimes I’ll just say ‘right, I’m in a rush, c’mon, let’s grab a quick selfie, and we’ll get out of here,’ but, yeah, I dunno, it’s pretty quick – unless there’s loads of them, y’know.”

“And there is, outside.” Nick quips, although he’s serious, it’s mental out there. “Louis is gonna be outside of Radio 1 for fifteen hours after this…”

“Thanks, Nick,” Louis clips.

“There is so many people outside,” Nick charges ahead, wondering if everyone will pick up on that ‘Nick’ instead of ‘Grimmy.’ “I was like, whoa. My taxi driver this morning was, like, ‘What’s happened!’ It’s Louis Tomlinson’s in, and he’s ‘okay, I’ve got it.’”

Sinead tiptoes in and grabs a pair of headphones as Nick continues, “Um, Louis, you’re gonna stick around for a little bit–”

“Of course.”

“–and we’re gonna get some of those questions from fans, and we’re gonna get this lady next to you, by the way, Sinead here, Sinead, you’re gonna do the entertainment news…”

“I know,” Sinead chimes in, “How lucky am I?”

“Yeah, me, you, Louis, are gonna do it, after this,” Nick says.

“Who else gets Louis to help them with their job on a Friday morning?” Sinead asks.

“I don’t really know what my job is, but I’ll give it a go,” Louis shrugs.

“I’ll help you,” Sinead assures him. 

“I like it,” Louis says.

“Louis, she makes it up as well.” Nick says slyly.

“Brilliant. Okay. Good to know.” Louis says.

As Sinead reports on Chester Bennington, Louis’ face is impassive but Nick can tell he’d rather be anywhere else just at the moment. He wishes he could reach over and touch Louis’ shoulder, give him some physical reminder that he’s there, he’s always going to be there when it goes wrong. 

After thanking Sinead, Nick gets to steer the topic away, hopefully gracefully, as he says, “And in some lighter entertainment news, what else is going on in the world of famouses?”

“Love Island,” Sinead replies. “Are you a fan, Louis?”

Nick relaxes as they chat about the show, starting to feel like they’re sitting ’round at the pub instead of live on air to the nation. He loves his job, really, it’s the only one he ever truly wanted, but people forget it is still quite a lot of work and this just doesn’t feel like it at the moment. He cracks up more than once at his clever boyfriend’s commentary and quite suspects he’s currently got heart eyes on. 

They wrap up and bid Sinead farewell before the  _ news _ news starts and an intern sneaks in and places a coffee in front of Louis. He startles as Louis thanks him, looking caught out, and hurries out. 

“How’d he know, d’you think?” Louis asks as he takes off the lid and blows at the top.

Nick’s eyes glaze over for just a second before he manages to chide back, “Not sure, but I think it might have been the sooooooooooooooo early tweet or when you got here and went on and on about the time or–”

There’s a mischievous twinkle in Louis’ eye as he takes a sip that makes Nick quite sure he didn’t succeed in covering up the glazed-over look, so he hurries to look away but just then Louis’ face twists and he yanks the cup away. 

Nick winces as he asks, “Too hot?”

“Too hot! Burnt me tongue,” Louis whines, and he starts to frown a bit like he does when he wants Nick to make a fuss over him before appearing to remember where they are and scrubbing his face with his hand. 

Nick gives him a small smile, a silent promise to make up for it later, and picks back up on air. 

“It’s four minutes past 8:00 on Friday morning and Louis Tomlinson is here,” he says. “Good morning.”

“I’ve woke up a bit now.” Louis announces.

“He’s awake!”

“Yeah, I’m awake!”

“Someone just delivered a coffee to you during the news then, which I really really like, because they sort of delivered it in stealth and gave it to you there, but also – too hot!”

“A bit too hot, yeah, I burnt me tongue, yeah, I’ll have that for the rest of the day, yeah.”

“That is the worst,” Nick declares. 

“It is, it is yeah,” Louis agrees.

“It’s actually the worst. Everything tastes the same?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“That’s an absolute rubbish Friday for you, Louis.”

“Well, it’s getting better, it’s getting better.”

“It’s getting better, it’s getting better,” Nick says, looking down. Who allowed his boyfriend to be this cute? “And can we talk about the story you just told us during the news?”

And so Nick sets Louis up to tell the same Tobey Maguire story that he’s heard about fifty times, bantering back with him the same way he has each time, but it’s the Pelé meet-and-greet story that really gets Nick. Louis hadn’t even been able to sleep that night, it was the cutest thing Nick’s ever witnessed in real life. 

Willing the hearts out of his eyes, he switches gears to declare, “Okay, I want to talk to you about the new song, and I want to talk to you about Bebe Rexha, and I want to speak to you about Bebe Rexha’s trumpet skills.”

“Okay?” Louis asks rather than says, clearly wondering where Nick’s going with this.

“Have you ever heard her on the trumpet?” Nick asks.

“I haven’t heard her on the trumpet,” Louis replies. 

“Get ready for a treat.” Nick says.

As the next song starts up, someone comes in with the trumpet they’d dug up yesterday and places it next to Nick. He looks innocently at Louis and shrugs off his jacket.

“Don’t remember seeing a trumpet on that email,” Louis says.

“No? Rusty’s getting rusty, isn’t he?” Nick says.

“Mm-hmm, sure, right,” Louis says.  

Nick looks down at his notes while Louis looks at his phone but they’re both watching the other out of the corner of their eyes. 

_ Sickening, really.  _

This thought does not make Nick stop, if anything he’s smiling wider.

They both scoot in a bit as the last song,  _ Power _ , ends.

“I love that mad bit at the end!” Nick exclaims.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that before!” Louis replies. “I’ve heard the song but not the end.”

Nick imitates the mad bit and says, “That’s Jesy on the mad one,” instead of accusing Louis of always tuning out when Nick’s cooking playlist is on like he wants to. 

“It’s Friday morning. Louis Tomlinson is here. Good morning,” Nick continues.

“Good morning,” Louis replies, and Nick can tell just how wearying it’s starting to be, the constant “good morning”s. 

“If you are just joining us, you’ve missed us playing Louis and Bebe Rexha’s brand-new song,” Nick says mock regretfully, knowing full well the upcoming airplay schedule. 

“You have, yeah, yeah, Louis says. “Unlucky.” 

“Unlucky,” Nick agrees. “Should we play it again?”

“Yeahhhhh,” Louis says slyly. “Please, that’d be nice, yeah.”

“Nice, yeah,” Nick says. “How was it, teaming up with Bebe. Like, how was your first meeting? How did it come about, and how was it going into the studio with someone?” 

“So, actually, I wrote the song with Nick from Digital Farm Animals,” Louis starts, gesturing with his left hand, “em, and then I vocalled the song, and we were listening to it, and I called him and we both agreed that it definitely felt like it needed a collaborator, and it definitely, really to drive the emotion and the concept of the song, it would be great to have a female in there, so we kind of… a few names were thrown around, and I think someone from the record label must have sent it to Bebe, got it back, and obviously, I mean, she just sounds amazing, but also, really important to me, she’s got such an obvious tone, y’know what I mean, a really cool tone, that you can pick her out of a lineup, which is really cool for me. And she’s a great girl.”

Nick leans forward listening, nodding along, adding “yeahs” here and there, the heart eyes creeping back in. 

“Actually, the first time we properly met,” Louis continues, “we’d spoken on the phone a couple of times, was at the video shoot. It was one of those, it was one of those, and, um, it was kind of funny, because, y’know, she was mid-shot, and it was kind of initial awkward introduction and whatever, but then as we got out through the day, like, she’s such a good person, really good energy, really good fun, and I actually really enjoyed showing her around Doncaster, which is, like, the video.”

Nick doesn’t bother to tamp down his enthusiasm as he replies, “I love that, ’cause I’ve seen the video,” and he wonders if that seemed natural enough before hurrying on, “and the video is great as well, ’cause it’s you in Doncaster, and I like that, a lot, that you’ve stuck true to your British roots. I like that a lot. Um, how was it when Bebe was coming to Doncaster, because I think people from America think that maybe the UK is, like, thatched cottage roofs, and we all know the Queen.”

“That is so true, yeah, yeah,” Louis agrees. “And think that all of England is as beautiful as the rest. Um to be honest, I think it was Donny on a good day, y’know what I mean? There wasn’t too many chavs around, there wasn’t too much, like, aggression on the street. Yeah, it was good. The only thing that I found that was funny was, I think maybe it come from her team, but at, like, lunchtime, they come into me dressing room and they go ‘so, ah, so… so Bebe’s gonna get some sushi.’”

Nick raises his eyebrows, laughing, and interjects, “She isn’t.”

“Honestly… you’re gonna have to go at least fifty miles outside of Doncaster to even get something that they call sushi, y’know,” Louis says. “Ah, but it was real fun, real nice.”

Nick’s eyes are not sparkling at the incredible dumb stroke of luck that he somehow tricked this beautiful Northern boy to fall in love with him. (They’re not.)

“What did she eat, in the end?” Nick asks, wondering if they’re making each other’s accents as strong as he suspects. “I love that.”

“I don’t know.” Louis answers, “I don’t…”

“Did you need sushi? Yeah, that doesn’t exist here yet.” Nick quips. 

“Chips and curry sauce, probably. Yeah yeah.”

“Same, innit? Same, really. Same, really,” Nick says as he clocks Louis watching him flex his long fingers (not for the first time, mind). “But she is a lot of fun, and I really really like her, and I met her, um, when she came on the show, and it’s always quite, y’know a little bit of a risk, if you’ve never met someone, and then you’ve booked them on the radio for an hour but she’s great and easy to be around, and a lot of fun. So when she came in, we did a lot of research into Bebe, and we found out she used to play the trumpet when she was a kid–”

“That’s pretty cool,” Louis says.

“So as you know, she’s an amazing singer, great voice, and have a little listen to her trumpet skills, because she brought a trumpet in, and she said she thought she’d like to show off the impressive skills when she joined me on the show…”

He presses play on the recording, not even bothering to try hiding his glee. He’ll never not find the disaster that was out-of-practice Bebe Rexha on that trumpet hilarious. He watches as Louis looks down, intent on listening, before his eyebrows raise and his expression turns incredulous. By the end of the clip, the two of them are barely keeping it together. 

“I mean,” Nick says grandly as it comes to an end. 

“Yeah,” Louis replies. “It sounds pretty, ah… it’s unique, it’s unique for sure.”

“Very um,” Nick says, trying to think of the best way to make Louis laugh. “Organic.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis agrees, doing his eye-crinkle smile. “Maybe even indie.”

They both laugh and Nick is amazed they’re having this conversation about someone other than Harry. 

“It’s a little bit off-kilter,” Nick says as he grins yet again, “She’s not trying to be, y’know, commercial.” 

“I like that, yeah, yeah, definitely.” 

“Would you like to have a go on actual Bebe Rexha’s trumpet?” Nick asks, picking up the trumpet.

“I would, yeah, yeah,” Louis replies, sounding easy as anything.

Nick knew he would roll with it, he’s good at reading most people but especially his boyfriend. He holds up the trumpet, asking again, “D’you wanna give it a go?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on, yeah.” Louis says. 

“Here, I’ll pass it over,” Nick says as he extends it, wishing he could brush his fingers over Louis’ skin, let the touch linger a bit, but his stupid boyfriend takes the other end of the trumpet. “’Cause there was a vicious rumour going around that you used to play it as well.”

“There’s not many trumpet players in Doncaster, I wasn’t one of them, but, em, honestly, I’m not sure… I don’t even really know how to…”

“Alright, alright, here we go,” Nick says. “Some live music now from Louis Tomlinson.” 

“Hang on, one sec, warm up…”

“Okay,” Nick says as Louis tries it but no sounds comes out. “Oh. Hang on.”

“I think it’s broke, this one,” Louis says as he turns it this way and that and Nick laughs. Louis tries blowing again but there’s still no sound and he asks bewilderedly, “How’s it work?”

“It’s more of a,” Nick says before blowing a raspberry at him. He can’t believe this is actually his life. 

“Oh,” Louis replies before trying again, this time getting a good sound out.  

“Ohhhhhh, beautiful!” Nick exclaims, delighted as Louis continues “playing” the trumpet. 

“It’s like Bebe Rexha’s back again!” Nick jokes as Louis keeps going. “Wow, well the next song that you do…”

“Yeah,” Louis says.

“For the first live performance, two trumpets,” Nick declares, “we’ll make Louis and Bebe do that. Incredible scenes.”

“Not very good,” Louis admits.

“As good as Bebe,” Nick replies before pressing for the next song to play. 

Louis hands the trumpet back over and they do some more of the stupid grinning they’ve really perfected at each other. Louis reaches for his phone and starts tapping, and Nick figures the moment is over before he sees his own phone light up out of the corner of his eye just as Louis looks up, grinning again.

He checks his text to see what Louis sent and is not disappointed: 

**_Thanks for the pointers on my blowing technique, felt like old times._ **

Nick’s face heats up but, determined not to be bested, he immediately shoots back:

**_No problem, you’ve always had a strong tongue and lips, just need help with how to use them._ **

He looks over to see Louis trying not to snicker, but they’re both lost causes. As Nick looks down to his notes, he sees what’s left of their allotted time, which has gone much more quickly than he wanted. He decides a head’s up on the other surprise he has in store is fair play. 

“Louis,” Nick says, trying for a more serious tone and probably failing, Louis’ sly smile should be illegal. 

“What’s that, Nick?” Louis replies.

“There’s one last thing coming up after fan questions I left out of the talking points,” Nick says.

“Okay,” Louis says hesitantly before lowering his voice. “What’s that about then? You have something else for me to blow?”

“Louis!” Nick hisses as he blushes. “No! Christ.”   
  
“Well, what did you expect me to ask?” Louis smirks. “Out with it, what’s up your sleeve?”

“I have that clip of Niall on radio,” Nick admits. “I want to play it for you.”

Nick watches Louis’ face go from fond to embarrassed as he starts to shake his head no, and Nick sets his shoulders straight, ready to insist.

“I don’t,” Louis starts. “It’s not… you don’t need to do that.”

“I do,” Nick replies. “If it were up to me, you’d hear clips like that every day for the rest of your life.” 

And it’s possible this is getting a bit more intense than his usual chats with guests between links, but he doesn’t really care who’s listening at the moment. They stare each other down for a minute before Louis finally shrugs.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he says as he pulls his phone out again, and Nick is sure he’s sending an angry text or summat but Louis just opens the camera app and uses it to check his hair. That little shit.

“I think I need a cut soon,” Louis remarks. 

“Lou,” Nick says in a low voice. 

“S’fine,” Louis replies. “Let’s get on with it then.”

Still a little unsettled, Nick moves back to the mic.

“It’s Friday morning, New Music Friday and we’ve had new music from Louis Tomlinson,” Nick announces. “Louis Tomlinson is here, good morning.”

“Good morning again,” Louis replies. 

“There’s so many questions coming in for you,” Nick says, “and I feel like if I don’t ask your fans’ questions…”

“You’ll be in trouble,” Louis finishes for him. 

“I’ll be in serious trouble,” Nick agrees. He starts with an easy one, about touring, which he personally isn’t looking forward to but they have practice making it work. He scans the list, and continues with the next one.

“Um, Liv has been on, saying, um – this is really interesting, this, actually, ’cause when we announced that you were gonna be on the show, all your fans get in touch, and tweeting and everything, and a lot of them have been saying this – ‘Don’t ask Louis about his personal life, just ask him about his music, and what he plans to do.’” Nick can’t help but imitate the oft-repeated demand, but he’s had a lot worse in his mentions so he hadn’t much minded it. “But I notice they’re so protective of you, and the other 1D guys.”

“Honestly, it’s absolutely amazing,” Louis says. “I mean, they really do look at things as a fan, but also, y’know, from like, a business point of view, absolutely. I mean, some of these people, like today, you only have to go on twitter, and they’re just like, doing flyers ’round everywhere, and just putting posters up… they’re just like a… a group of, like, professional promoters, really, they’re amazing.”

“You could fire everyone out there,” Nick says jokingly, hoping he’s not letting on he means it because Louis is an adult and a professional in his own right, and Nick has to let him handle his own career. 

“Oh, definitely,” Louis jokes back. “They’re loads better than them lot, yeah.”

Nick laughs at that, before continuing, “Did you hear what Niall said about you on the radio in Australia?”

“I did,” Louis replies, already bashful. “He’s lovely isn’t he, Niall. He melts my heart. He’s lovely.”

“I love this,” Nick states sincerely. “I love this, ’cause… if you didn’t hear this, we’re gonna play a little clip of it. This was Niall on in Australia, wasn’t it?”

“I think so, yeah,” Louis replies.

“Australian radio, talking about Louis,” Nick says. 

As the clip plays and they hear Niall’s voice talking about how important Louis is, Nick watches Louis closely. He sits back and rubs an eyebrow, looking rueful. He casts his eyes downward for a moment, serious, and Nick can see it’s a lot for him to be made to sit and listen to. Then Louis looks up with a smile that Nick knows is meant just for him, even though they’re in the middle of all these people in and out of studio, and he feels like his heart literally grows. 

“I love that,” Nick says emphatically when the clip is done. 

“He’s lovely, Niall, obviously,” Louis says. “He melts me heart, always.”

“It’s nice knowing, y’know, that someone’s got your back like that, as well, but I love that,” Nick says, thinking about all of the people who would go to war for Louis Tomlinson if only he would let them. 

“Yeah, definitely, definitely,” Louis says. “And, y’know, it was… um… like that interview that I did that kind of provoked that… I mean, I never asked Niall to come out and say, I just think things like that, they really mean a lot to me. It’s proper sweet, it’s real sweet.”

“I liked that interview, by the way,” Nick says, just as he’d planned to once he had Louis captive. “I thought it was good.”

“Yeah, it was very open, yeah, yeah,” Louis attempts to downplay. “It was quite hard for me to read back, to be quite honest, but, yeah, I think it was good.”

“Do you do that though?” Nick asks. “Do you ever, like, read stuff back, or watch stuff back?”

“Not normally,” Louis answers truthfully, “but because that one I was so open and honest, obviously I wanted to feel the tone of it, see how it was written, but, yeah, yeah, hopefully it was alright.”

“No, it was good,” Nick insists. “It was definitely good.”

Figuring that’s as much as he can get away with, he moves on to the last fan question, one that he’s sure gets asked in every interview each of the four boys do, but some things he can’t help.

Nick continues, “Also, ah, who’s this that’s been on, they’re called ‘I’m trash’ on twitter–” 

“Okay, very honest,” Louis interjects, drawing another laugh from him. 

“Um, ask him ‘How does he keep in touch with the boys?’” Nick says. “So we heard from Niall then, do you do like a Whatsapp group chat, do you have an email chain, is it carrier pigeon?”

“We don’t actually have a collective Whatsapp group,” Louis says, and he manages not to roll his eyes this time at Harry’s insistence on not having the app. “We did, we should have… um so, yeah, it’s just, y’know, the normal way people keep in contact – text, the occasional call, yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“Phones, guys, phones,” Nick says mock seriously. “They’ve got phones, it’s by phones, it’s by phone. Well, Louis, thank you for coming on the show.”

“Thank you so much for having me.” Louis replies. 

“You’re very, very welcome,” Nick says, “and congratulations on the new single.”

“Thank you,” Louis says. 

“And keep up that trumpet playing,” Nick jests.

“Oh yes,” Louis mock assures him.

“We’ll have to get one to keep ’round the house,” Nick says casually. “Dead sexy that, practice your blowing skills any time, love.” 

Louis stares at him with wide eyes for a moment before Nick realizes his mistake. 

_ Oh, fuck.  _

“Oh, f–” Nick starts to say aloud.

“–for christ’s sake, Nicholas,” Louis cuts in. “No one wants to hear what we get up to at home, we’re a quite boring old couple really.”

Nick’s phone is lighting up like mad, everyone in the room is staring at him, and you could hear a pin drop, but when he looks up at Louis, he’s nodding encouragingly. Right, yes, he can do this. Professional.

_ Fucking shit. _

“Quite right you are, love,” Nick chokes out. “All right, thank you Louis.” 

“Thank you. Cheers, everyone,” Louis replies, not sounding bothered in the least. Someone got their money’s worth out of that media training, at least.  

Once they’re off air, Nick just sits speechless for a moment.

“I… I don’t,” Nick sputters. “Fuck, Louis, I can’t believe–”

Louis gets up and moves quickly to kneel in front of Nick’s chair, taking both of his hands.

“Breathe, love,” he says quietly. “Come on, in and out, I don’t want to worry about your inhaler.”

And so they stay there together, breathing in and out in their own little bubble for a couple of minutes before Nick remembers they’re not alone, quite the opposite actually. He looks around to see everyone staring, like he and Louis are animals in a zoo or summat.

Panicked again, he looks back to Louis, who starts rubbing soothing circles on Nick’s hands with his thumbs. 

“It’s alright, love,” Louis whispers. “It’s what we’ve wanted for a while, innit, s’just a bit sooner and less planned out than we thought. But it’s alright, I promise.”

Nick nods and it’s just, christ, he talks to people for a living, he can talk to anyone about anything, but he’s completely tongue-tied at the moment.

“Love,” Louis says, “come on, up, up, let’s go take a photo, they’ll still want us to do that, but then I think I’ve probably got some new meetings I’ll have to get to. Come on, then.”

Nick stands, a bit shaky, and puts his arms around Louis.

“I didn’t...” he says lowly into Louis’ ear. “I’d never want–”

“I swear to god, Nicholas,” Louis says fiercely. “I love you, and this will change some things, but it won’t change that, you hear me?” 

Nick forces himself to lift his eyes and meet Louis’ gaze. He nods, and lets Louis lead him out of the room. They stop and pose for the most awkward photo ever taken of them before Russell sweeps Louis out, whisper shouting something about “I told you” and timelines and Nick can feel the guilt eating his insides. It had only been a stupid joke, a ridiculous stupid fucking joke, and at the last possible second, he’d actually gone and fucked it up. 

_ What kind of a person outs his own boyfriend to the entire country? _

Producer Liam takes Nick’s elbow and leads him to the gents, talking quietly about figuring something out to give him a few minutes to collect himself, splash some water on his face, before going back on. Nick stands at the counter and stares dully at himself in the mirror for a moment before going through the motions of splashing water on his face. It doesn’t help him collect himself, but he figures he has to go back out there eventually. He’s a professional.

He walks nervously back to his seat in the studio, but people have stopped staring. He’ll never quite remember how but they get through the rest of the show, albeit with no mention of the relationship Nick has been keeping private for years. Nick ends up sitting at his desk for a bit afterward, staring down at his hands, not sure what he’s supposed to be doing exactly. He should be doing something, right?

After a bit, he gets pulled into a meeting he’d forgotten about, and as he makes his way to a seat, he gets a few catcalls and pats on the back. Everyone is smiling at him, and he relaxes a bit, does a little curtsey before sitting down. And then one of the longest, most boring meetings of his professional life ensues, like the world itself hasn’t tilted on its axis or something. Strange, that. He steadfastly ignores all of the notifications on his phone that aren’t from Louis (so, all of them, he imagines Louis is a bit busy at the moment) and eventually gets caught out taking selfies.

He’s finally relieved of his duties and slips out the rear entrance. He texts Emily from the car, asking her to clear out with the dogs for the night. He believes that Louis meant it when he said that this wouldn’t change the fact he loved him, but… how could this be okay? How could they be okay? At any rate, they were going to need some time alone that night, proper alone. 

Emily texts back before he gets home to say they’ve already gone, and he’s honestly a bit overwhelmed by his friends sometimes. No questions asked even, what a star.

Of course that means when Nick gets home there’s nothing to take his mind off of this huge, terrible thing he’s done, except his phone which is still lighting up like mad with notifications from just about everyone except the one person he wants to hear from.

Nick wanders into the bedroom and almost cries when he sees the mess of clothes he’d forgotten about strewn everywhere. It’s just so achingly familiar, so…  _ Louis _ . He sets about the mindless task of folding and putting away, and when he gets to the top dresser drawer, he remembers their wager. If there’s any chance that he and Louis really are okay, Nick’s more than willing to deliver.

Nick changes quickly, choosing joggers and an old t-shirt. He picks up his phone again, just to see, and there’s a notification that @louist91 has posted to instagram. 

_ Instagram? What does  _ that _ mean? Time for a sad selfie? Do I even want to click it? _

Of course he fucking wants to click it.

Once it loads, Nick sees that Louis has gone the Swifty route of posting a screenshot from the notes app: 

hi guys i’m sat in a meeting about how to talk to you lot about what happened this morning and figured this might be a bit easier. the truth is something that i’ve wanted to share with you for a long time but haven’t for a lot of reasons, some good – privacy for one, some bad – lots of industry bullshit. for the record, i am gay, and for a few years now i’ve been in a relationship with nick grimshaw, probably grimmy to you. i’ll be doing a few interviews in the next few days, it looks like, so i’ll have more to say to you, but that’s the important bit, from me to you, for now. i’d appreciate it if no one gave nick any shit for this, i give him enough shit myself, and the truth is that he makes me really happy, he takes care of me, and i think i probably fell in love with him the minute i met him. hope this doesn’t change anything but if it does, kindly fuck off x

Nick sits on the edge of their bed, reading it over and over again. For as long he lives, he’s never going to believe his luck. He’s jolted when he finally gets the text he’s been waiting for:

**On my way back, love, won’t be long. Stop worrying. I love you.**

Nick lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he sits for a few minutes, just breathing easily in a way he hasn’t done since the morning. 

_ Thank fucking christ. _

He gets up and makes for the kitchen, figuring he should have a cuppa ready when Louis gets there. After putting the kettle on, Nick picks out mugs – Robbie Williams for Louis, Take That for himself – and prepares Louis’ the way he likes it first, splash of milk, then milk and two cubes of sugar for his own. He takes both steaming mugs to the front room to wait.

It's only a few minutes before he hears Louis’ key in the lock, followed by the door and “babe?” 

“In here,” Nick calls back. He tries to appear nonchalant, Louis had said to stop worrying, but he just–

“Hi love,” Louis says as he walks in. “Oh, thanks, been dying for a cuppa.”

He sits heavily next to Nick on the couch and leans forward to take the mug where it sits on a coaster on the coffee table. (House proud even in the midst of a crisis, Nick is.) He watches as Louis takes his first sip and closes his eyes, sitting back, seemingly content. Still feeling ill at ease, Nick sits with his back straight, watching Louis. Waiting. 

“How was rest of your day, love?” Louis asks. “Come on then, you first.”

“Was fine,” Nick says, “Got through the rest of the show, had a meeting, came home. Louis, I–”

“Where are Pig and Stink?” Louis asks suddenly, looking around. “Shouldn’t they be swarming us by now?”

“I asked Emily to take them for a night,” Nick says, “I thought we might need some time just by ourselves tonight.”

He meets Louis’ gaze, unsure how to ask the questions that have been running non-stop in his head all day.

“Ah, right,” Louis replies. “Okay, okay.”

He leans forward and sets his mug down before putting an arm around Nick’s shoulder and pulling him to sit back with him. Nick slouches a bit, taking comfort in Louis’ proximity.

“So there were a couple more things lined up for today,” Louis starts, “but we postponed or cancelled and Rusty pulled together everyone for a big meeting to go over options. I swear to god, if I had to hear the words ‘damage control’ one more fucking time…”

“I’m so sorry,” Nick breaks in. “It was a joke, I can’t believe I–”

“Thanks, love,” Louis says gently. “I know you didn’t mean it, and I was joking with you, maybe I got in your head or summat. But I want you to know, I was never angry with you, you didn’t hurt me or anything like that. You always take the piss when I say this, but it is what it is. I don’t want you beating yourself up for an honest mistake.” 

Nick lets out a shaky breath, letting himself believe for the first time that things will actually be okay. 

“Listen to me, baby,” Louis continues, running his hand up and down Nick’s arm. “I think we both liked things the way they were, it was nice having something just for us, eh? But I’ve always wanted to be out, and I would have been from the start if I didn't have all these arseholes telling me I’d be the end of the band if people knew, and the way they handled the whole Harry thing was so fucked, and every time I pushed back, they pushed back harder, it set me back years from seeding for a coming out. This wasn’t what we had planned, but I don’t fucking care. S’why I didn’t try to play off what you said, I want to be out and I want to be out with you, and that’s what I've got if you’ll have me. What d’you say?”

Nick is full on crying now, the emotion of the day catching up with him, sad for the young boy Louis was and grateful for the man that he is. Louis sits up a bit and turns to take Nick’s face in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. He leans in and kisses Nick’s nose, getting a choked laugh from him. Beaming, Louis leans in again and kisses him softly. And Nick will deny the cliché if anyone asks, but it feels like home. He’s a right sap, but it’s the fucking truth. Louis is his home.

He grips Louis’ elbows to keep him close, and kisses back, teasing Louis’ lips with his tongue until Louis parts them. Nick tilts his head and deepens the kiss, slowly thrusting with his tongue until it becomes heated. Louis moves a hand into Nick’s hair, pulling it slightly. Nick moans, breaking the kiss to breathe for a moment. Louis kisses just below his ear and slides his other hand down to grip Nick’s hip. 

Nick suddenly remembers the terms of their wager and moves a hand to place it over Louis’ on his hip. Louis pulls his head up to look at Nick questioningly and Nick grins broadly back. 

“What is it, baby?” Louis asks, petting Nick’s hair gently.

“D’you remember what we said last night?” Nick asks. “About the thing I like?”

Louis stares at him, eyes darkening.

“Shit, did you really–”

“I really did,” Nick says quickly. “D’you wanna see?”

“Fuck yeah,” Louis breathes, sitting back. “Show me.”

Nick stands and gently pushes the coffee table back a bit, trying not to jostle his untouched tea and mindful of the mug Louis had bought special for him (god knows why they’re not making them anymore, s’not like Take That’ve sold billions of records or anything). He turns back to face Louis, debating for a second how long to draw this out. He decides not at all and throws off his t-shirt before pulling his joggers down to pool at his ankles, a bit unsexily.

Louis’ attention isn't at his ankles, though, but rather at the black lace knickers that Nick had put on earlier. It's a pair he’d bought especially for Louis, so they fit him rather well, although the tip of his half hard cock is dangerously close to popping out. 

“Gorgeous, love,” Louis says lowly. “Fucking hell.”

“I didn't realize you liked this this much,” Nick admits. “Don’t have to save it for when I fuck up in the future, just ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Louis assures him quickly, running his hands up and down his own thighs. “Now I already had a go at blowing this morning, how about you have a turn?”

Nick drops to his knees gracefully and leans in to help Louis take his jumper off. He pushes Louis to sit back and slowly unbuttons the Burberry, touching Louis’ golden skin as he exposes it, thumbing at Louis’ nipples. Finally his hands reach the waistband of Louis’ jeans and he looks into his boy’s eyes as he undoes the top button, then the flies. 

As much as Nick prefers the way skinnies hug Louis’ curves, he’s glad Louis opted for a looser fit today so he can get his hands on his skin quicker. He tosses the jeans to the side with his own joggers before running his hands up Louis’ calves and inner thighs, reveling in his soft skin.

He looks up again as he takes Louis’ cock in his hand, slowly jacking him to full hardness. When he has Louis breathing as heavily as he wants, he bends his head and takes the crown in his mouth, running his tongue over the slit. He moves one hand to rest on Louis’ thigh and with the other he gently tugs on Louis’ balls, drawing a broken moan from him.

Spurred on, Nick takes Louis in deeper, slowly at first. Sometimes a blow job is a job, sometimes it’s just about getting Louis off, but this time Nick loses himself in the feeling, getting just as into it as Louis. He moans too, moving his hand from Louis’ thigh to free his own hard cock from the flimsy black lace. He strokes himself once, twice before Louis rasps, “Stop, love, no touching, want to watch you.”

Secretly Nick loves when Louis gets a little bossy like this and he obeys quickly, moving both hands to grip Louis’ hips as he speeds up, keeping his tongue on the underside of Louis’ cock. He’s getting sloppier, spit dribbling down out of his mouth, but Louis’ moans are growing louder and Nick knows he’s close. 

It only takes a couple of more bobs up and down and Louis comes with a shout. Nick swallows, pressing the heel of his hand against his own cock to take some pressure off. He runs his hands soothingly over Louis’ thighs as Louis comes down from his orgasm, sitting back on his haunches, maybe showing off his achingly hard cock, pale against the black of the lace knickers.

It works, drawing Louis’ eyes down. His chest heaves a couple of times before he looks up and says, “Show me.”

Nick immediately starts stroking himself and he’s so worked up and it’s so hot with Louis sitting back watching him, it only takes a minute before he’s coming all over his hand.

His own chest heaves a few times before he notices Louis leaning forward, still wearing only the unbuttoned Burberry, probably the hottest thing Nick has ever seen, offering him a couple of tissues. 

Nick wipes his hand off, tossing the tissues aside before looking back to Louis. Louis looks like he’s drinking him in, it’s a heady feeling. He smiles shyly, resting his hands on Louis’ knees.

“You’re so beautiful, my darling,” Louis says quietly and Nick blushes furiously. He continues, “your skin, baby, it just glows. Like, it always does but especially right now. And in these knickers, fuck.”

Nick leans forward to kiss him, he has to, and Louis traces Nick’s lips lightly with his fingertip when he pulls back.

“These lips, baby,” Louis whispers. “You just have no idea, they’re perfect. So beautiful.”

And Nick doesn't know what to say, the thing is that they don’t do this. They don’t talk like this, and he’s feeling so much and doesn’t know how to say it all.

“I love you,” he breathes and Louis smiles his crinkled-eye smile back at him. 

“S’kind of nice, fucking in the sitting room, innit?” Louis asks suddenly, like he knew exactly what Nick needed and lightened the moment for him. 

Nick bursts into laughter and agrees, “Never get to fuck in here, what with the dogs running in and out. Should arrange for nights out for them more often.”

“You’re full of brilliant ideas today, love,” Louis says. “Now come on, let’s get you off your knees, we can get cleaned up and get some takeaway, yeah? And Liv texted me that you haven’t even called Eileen yet, is that true?”

Nick nods, embarrassed, opening his mouth to start explaining, but Louis shakes his head.

“Food first, love,” Louis insists. “The world can wait a bit longer.”

And for the millionth time, Nick cannot believe his luck. 

_ Thank christ. _

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos if you liked it and let me know what you thought in the comments! <3 
> 
> Rebloggable [ tumblr post ](https://grimmyappreciation.tumblr.com/post/166532757973/hold-on-for-one-more-day-nick-grimshawlouis) here!


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